


To Tread Upon Fields Afar

by CFIT_Ace



Category: The Land Before Time (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:18:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9627782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CFIT_Ace/pseuds/CFIT_Ace
Summary: They say the Great Valley was a paradise, that its walls held dinosaurs of every kind, a safe haven for weary travelers, and lost souls. But those were the days before the fall of the great Sky Stone. Now few mention the Valley outside of the realms of myth, and the stories that do speak of it always tell of rainbow scales, smoke, fire, and a star as black as night.Set fifty years after the events of the films, this is the tale of Fyn and Zaura, Amargasaurus siblings whose comfortable life is swiftly inverted when they learn that one of their family, presumed dead, may still be alive after seeking out the mythical Great Valley. A choice is made to follow his decades-old trail, and what follows is a tale of the indomitable spirit, as new friends, hardships, enemies, and cultures all intertwine to challenge their previous perception of their world.This story is a reboot of my first original character, and my longest story to date. While I feel most of the early content is a light T rating, I've made the decision to rate the entire story M, as later chapters contain graphic animal violence, language, and some darker themes.





	1. Prologue

_ Prologue _

_ “I beg of you, don’t do this.” _

_ “I’m sorry- there’s no other way.” _

_ “The Valley exists! Others have seen it!”  _

_ “You are delirious- your poisoned words will not foul our herd.”  _

_ “This land is death, don’t you understand that?! The waves will come again- bigger next time! The Farwalkers said they’ve seen it before!”  _

_ “The Outsiders seek nothing more than to disrupt the peace we have he-” _

_ “No! You lie! I will not have my children grow up in the shadow of the Big Water.”  _

_ “You want to find this mythical Great Valley? Go ahead. But know this- you will never be welcome here again.”  _

_ “When I return, we will see what weight your words hold over mine. They all know it’s only a matter of time before the waves return. This Great Valley is not a myth. And if you can’t see that, then you have truly given up.”  _

_ “Chase your Valley, then. Chase it to the end of this land, as a mirage. I don’t expect your return, Outcast.” _

_ “No, I suppose you don’t. That’s up to fate to decide.”  _

And with those final words, the lone Sailneck turned to the vast, empty Drylands ahead of him, turning his back on his home for the last time. 


	2. Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zaura and Fyn go their own ways, the former to a dreaded, yearly obligation, and the latter to begin his training as a herd leader.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An apology here: I had no idea these early chapters were so... campy. I've tried to spruce them up a bit, but there are definitely going to be some grammatical slip-ups, and the dialogue, I feel, is downright cheesy. Still, I promise there's more to this story than some corny dialogue. Bear with me!

_ Lessons _

 

_ “Fyn- you have to listen to me-” _

_ “Mother, hold on!”  _

_ “I don’t know if I can. The pull’s too strong… listen. Take care of your little sister, Fyn. Do you understand? Keep her out of harm’s way for me! If your father’s out there-”  _

_ “I will mother. I will. Just please hold on!”  _

_ “I’m trying, Fyn, but-” _

_ “Mother!”  _

The orange, still-moving shape of a longneck thrashing amongst the waves faded ever farther into darkness as the sound of angry water lashing itself mercilessly at the land grew to a deafening roar. Then the last flicker of orange disappeared.   
And silence reigned supreme again. 

…

`Fyn gasped sharply, his head snapping up from the ground and into a tree branch. The impact startled him further, but he barely noticed the pain. Chest heaving and eyes wide, he lay frozen, almost paralyzed, staring into space. 

“Night terror?’ 

As his breathing slowed, Fyn cautiously turned his head around. Zaura, his sister, stood behind him, a look of concern on her face. 

“Yeah, about Mom,” he groaned, pushing himself to his feet and feeling the pent-up tension from sleep leave his muscles as he stretched- probably his favorite part of the morning’s routine. 

“Ah, I see,” Zaura mumbled thoughtfully, deciding not to press the subject. Her older brother’s dream about their mother was recurring, and one that thankfully she hadn’t experienced herself- likely because she’d been too young to remember anything concrete about the circumstances surrounding their mother’s death. Fyn apparently did still remember, and lately, for whatever reason, it was eating at him, at least on a subconscious level. It was hard to see him, ragged and tired like this, but Zaura knew there was only so much she could do to help her brother. His past was his past. Dealing with it, in the end, would come down to his own efforts. 

Squinting through the thick tree canopy, Fyn took note of the Bright Circle’s position. It was almost midday, and suddenly he realized that something was off… 

“Wait a minute- Zaura, aren’t you supposed to be meeting with prospective mates today?” 

Zaura visibly shuddered at the question. As adopted daughter of the herd’s leader, Garas, she was under a lot of pressure to choose a mate from the herd’s best males, especially as she grew ever closer to the verge of adulthood. Frankly the thought terrified her, but she rarely ever let the males see that. To them, she was simply a very stubborn, yet very desirable female Sailneck. And an influential one at that. 

“Noooo” she muttered slyly, “that wasn’t today. And if you know what’s good for you, I think you’ll agree.” 

Rolling his eyes, Fyn closed his mouth around a tree branch, dragging it back and reaping a few leaves into his gullet. This was hardly uncharacteristic of Zaura- rebelling against their adopted father, herd leader Garas, was something of a game with her. Maybe it was her age, or maybe she just didn’t trust him. Either way, Garas didn’t like it much, and while Fyn liked his sister, it was often up to him to warn her when enough was enough.

“Anyway,” Zaura said as she lifter her head up alongside Fyn’s to grab some leaves of her own,” I’d really rather get out and cool off at the waterfall. Looks like it’s going to be a hot day.”

“Zaura, you will do no such thing.”

The sound of crashing vegetation and thundering footsteps marked the entrance of Garas as he tromped through the underbrush, beating down the well worn path to the clearing he and the two younger Sailnecks called home. He stopped, fixing his sharp gaze on Zaura, and the sharp spines on his neck and back only served to make him even more intimidating.

“Garas please,” Zaura insisted, “I don’t want to-”

“There are no less than fourteen strapping young Sailnecks in the gathering place wondering where the esteemed Zaura is,” Garas snapped, “I thought you told me you wouldn’t run away anymore.” 

“But I’m not ready!” Zaura pleaded, “and besides- I don’t like any of them!” 

“Do you think I-” Garas’ voice began to rise, but he stopped himself, sighing. 

“Zaura, please. Do this for me. You don’t have to choose today, just at least humor me by giving them a chance. Will you do that for me?” 

Zaura stared her superior down, head bent to the ground, nostrils flared, and brow furrowed, and for a moment, Fyn thought she would charge the larger Sailneck. Instead, she pulled her head away and closed her eyes, slowing her breathing down. 

“Fine,” she whispered. “I’ll go.” 

“We’ll speak later,” Garas said as Zaura disappeared into the foliage. The female Sailneck said nothing; she didn’t even turn her head back to acknowledge that he’d spoken. Garas shook his head as the sound of her footsteps faded away. 

“She’s her father, in female form,” he chuckled to Fyn as the young Longneck finished his meal, “stubborn, proud, independent. That was your dad, too.” 

Fyn nodded, gulping down his last mouthful of leaves. The bittersweet juices tickled the back of his throat, and he shuddered pleasantly. 

“She’ll grow up soon enough though,” Garas added, “we all do. In fact, Fyn, I’m thinking today might be the right time to set you on your own path to adulthood.” 

Fyn looked confused, and Garas could hardly blame him for it. Poor kid, really. Lost his mother shortly after his father had… His father. Thank goodness he’d been able to keep Fyn cautious and sensible for this long. There was barely a trace of the young Sailneck’s father in his blood anymore. Zaura on the other hand… perhaps finding her a mate was all it would take. He grimaced briefly as he remembered the Sailneck, how he’d almost brought down the entire herd with his foolish ideals. No, Fyn would grow to be a sensible leader. A feared leader perhaps, if he was lucky, but one in control of his herd. Today that training would begin. 

“I know you never thought your destiny would follow mine, Fyn, but you know I have no other sons,” Garas said, pacing, “and it’s almost time for me to begin training a new leader. You know how a leader is selected, correct? I know I’ve taught you this before.”

“Well yeah,” Fyn said, crossing his front legs together anxiously, “the leader selects the first of his sons and begins to train him when he… comes of age.” At the conclusion of his words, Fyn slowly looked up at Garas in sudden realization. 

“Wait…” he said, stammering as Garas looked on in amusement, “wait a moment, you can’t really mean- but I’m not your son!” 

“No, not in blood, true,” Garas nodded thoughtfully, “but I have no true blood son, and I’ve been your guardian since you were young. Therefore, I consider you a worthy candidate. So what do you say, Fyn? Will you take me as your mentor, too?” 

Fyn bit the inside of his mouth, trying to find the right words. This entire offer had come completely out of the blue. Herd leader was a role he’d never expected to take on before. Could he do it? He thought back over the years, how often he’d jumped at his own shadows, how terrified he’d been of pain, and his decidedly awkward social presence. But before he could open his mouth to refuse, he thought about the last words of his mother, just before the currents of the Big Water swallowed her whole. 

_ Take care of your little sister, Fyn.  _

Care. Isn’t that what being a leader was all about? If Zaura could take a leap forward and accept a mate in her life, there was no reason he couldn’t be a herd leader. Fyn squared his jaw, looked Garas straight in the eye, and for the first time in his life, felt not a shred of apprehension. 

“I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Garas said, turning around and heading in the direction that Zaura had left, “then meet me at the Field of Jumping Water. Your training begins there.”  

…

Zaura frowned as she neared the clearing, which was by now densely packed with nervous, chattering males and a few females in assorted states of either intimidation or boredom. She was pretty sure that by now, the hormones in the air were so thick she could’ve cut them with one sweep of her tail. But that was an experiment best left aside.

Upon her entering the clearing, the males immediately stopped what they were doing and fell silent. It was no secret to her as to why. She was the grand prize, as it were. Winning her attention would immediately grant the victor status in the herd as part of the leader’s family. 

_ Unfortunately for them, I’m not interested,  _ Zaura thought, positioning herself opposite the others and standing still, turning her head away in an expression of disinterest.  _ Not this time anyway.  _

Slowly, cautiously, several males began to approach. Some even left several females behind, who retreated to the edge of the clearing, scowling at Zaura. She couldn’t help but feel sorry for them, but she had a job to do, and as easy as it was to say she could defy her adopted father, actually doing it was much more difficult. 

“Good… good morning, Zaura,” the first male to approach said. He was tall, vibrant, probably a good choice for a mate in all honesty. Timid, perhaps, but a good choice. 

“Hi” she replied, flatly. The male gulped and stepped back a bit. Seeing his discomfort, Zaura took her chance. 

“Kindly remove your face from my proximity. If you think I’m interested, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

“Ah, yes ma’am,” the male said, beating a hasty retreat. Noting this rejection, the rest of the males hung back, wary. Putting on an aloof demeanor, Zaura trotted over towards the rest of the females.

“They’re all yours,” she said with a wink. The females were not amused, and their icy stares made Zaura realize just how patronizing her words had been. She frowned as they left her side, mingling once more with the males. 

She really should’ve been in there with them, she knew, after all the Day of Mates was a tremendous celebration, and an important step in a young adult’s life. She’d skipped it altogether last year, and was pretty much obligated to show up this time around. It’s not that the prospective of bonding with another Sailneck for life scared her- it was just that without any family other than Fyn, she felt kind of responsible for him. If she took a mate, they’d be separated, and she just wasn’t sure she was ready. 

With a shake of her head, Zaura dismissed a younger male who was cracking his tail, shaking his body from side to side. The eager Sailneck was attempting a mating dance, and had clearly not gotten the hint that she wasn’t interested. Disappointed, he hung his head and went back to the crowd.   
“Maybe next year, bud,” she said under her breath, relaxing her legs and laying down on the soft grass. As she was about to close her eyes and begin basking in the mid-day sun, she caught someone else across the clearing doing the same- another male. Only he didn’t seem bored so much as dejected. Looking around, Zaura made sure the coast was clear before doing anything- she had a reputation to keep after all. Positive that no one was watching, she made her way to the Sailneck and laid down next to him. 

“Sup,” she said, evenly. 

“Uh, hi,” the Sailneck said, timidly. “are… are you here to…”

Zaura let out a loud “ha!” then closed her mouth quickly as the male’s head sank down. 

“Er, no. Sorry. But that’s not because of you!” she added quickly, hoping not to offend him too much, “I’m just not interested in picking up a mate this year. I’m actually kinda wondering why you aren’t out there with everyone else.”

The male let his head down on the grass with a long sigh. “Well, I simply don’t see the point. I highly doubt anyone’s going to notice me. What do I have to offer to a prospective mate?”

_ Sounds a lot like Fyn,  _ Zaura thought, guiltily,  _ he and my brother would probably get along well.  _ Timid and self-conscious were hardly good traits to have when looking for a mate, and just sitting here wasn’t going to get him far. 

She looked him over briefly, with a discerning eye, as if considering him for a prospective mate. Everything checked out- he looked healthy, with good coloration in his sail and spines, and he was built solidly enough. He was hardly alpha material, but he wasn’t bad by any stretch. 

“I don’t see why you’re worried,” she said, “I’d probably give you a chance.” 

The male’s head snapped up quickly, surprised. 

“If I was looking for one,” Zaura added quickly. No need to give him any ideas right now. 

The male shook his head, “naw, you’re just trying to cheer me up, aren’t you?” 

Zaura’s heart beat a bit faster, and her eye twitched. Self-pity was one pet peeve of hers, but this was starting to border on ridiculous. Slowly she turned her head until she was eye to eye with him. 

“A piece of advice from me to you then. Don’t wait. I’m not trying to cheer you up; I’m trying to lift you out of this fog you’re in. Get out there and introduce yourself, or so help me I will thrash you into the next cycle, alright?” 

The young male looked up into Zaura’s smoldering eyes and trembled. There was no mercy to be found there, and suddenly talking to another female seemed like a relatively bearable outcome compared to what awaited him with Zaura. 

“Uh, er, right. I’ll just go now,” he said, quickly getting up onto his feet. “G- goodbye, and thanks.” He started away at a brisk pace, but turned around hesitantly. “I’m Camar, by the way. it was a pleasure meeting you.”

Zaura winked at him; he was finally getting it. “Go get ‘em, Sharptooth,” she said, relaxing herself as the male walked away, timidly towards a group of females, his confidence seeming to build with every step.

“Well, there’s one good deed for the day,” she mumbled as she ducked her head back down onto the grass, “guess coming here wasn’t a huge waste after all.”

…

The Field of Jumping Water marked the boundary of the Sailnecks’ domain, bordering a vast desert. Regularly, jets of steaming hot water leapt from holes in the ground, hence the name. These were very effective for keeping Sharpteeth away, and the Sailnecks treated the place with respect. No one knew if the holes’ timing held any regular pattern, and no one cared to find out. In essence, it was an effective two-way gate. No one crossed it in either direction. Here, at the edge of the treeline, Garas waited patiently as Fyn crossed over into the dry beyond.

“Sorry I was so cryptic this morning,” Garas said, “I’ve honestly never done this before. I suppose it’s best to ask again- are you truly committed to this role, Fyn? When I’m gone, will you lead the herd as I have?”

“Of course,” Fyn said, nodding. Garas smiled, and Fyn was caught off guard as his tail sailed through the air, cracking against the side of his face. Surprised, he stepped back a bit, and Garas grinned. 

“We’ll work on that. First and foremost, Fyn, you must be prepared to fight for your herd- fight not just to buy them time, if need be, but fight to win. You will be challenged as a leader, and your reflexes must be like lightning. But we have time. Follow me.” 

The side of his face still burning, Fyn followed Garas as he turned, heading for a rocky, elevated outcropping ahead. 

“Of course it’s not just fighting, you know,” Garas added, making good time over the cracked, dusty ground, “your primary role is the protection of the herd, even when there’s no obvious threat.”

Fyn was confused- this made no sense. He mulled over what Garas had said as they ascended the outcropping. Was Garas talking about preparing for future encounters? If so, it made sense. Preparation was the surest way to come out ahead in any event. Fyn’s thoughts were interrupted as a few rocks crumbled away underfoot. His heart leapt as his small path up the rocks became a bit smaller. From here, he’d survive the fall of course, but landing would hardly be painless.

“Not much farther,” Garas said up ahead, working his way up to the very top of the formation. Fyn pushed himself up the steep incline, making his way to the top despite his breathing growing ever more rapid. Finally he took his place at Garas’ side, chest heaving. Garas, in contrast, seemed quite comfortable. 

“Look up,” he said simply. Reluctantly, Fyn lifted his head, squinting through the light of the Bright Circle. Down below him, filling his field of view, was the grove he called home, bordered on one side by the Field of Jumping Water and the vast expanse of dust they called the Drylands. On the other side was the equally impressive Big Water, which stretched as far as the horizon. From here, the grove seemed so… fragile. Like a flower growing alone in a stony field. Evidently Garas thought the same. 

“This is our world, Fyn,” Garas whispered, gesturing towards the trees below. “What strikes you about it from up here?” 

“It’s so small,” Fyn said in awe, “the trees make it feel so much bigger than it actually is inside.” 

Garas nodded. “Exactly. This small slice of paradise is all that separates us from the wasteland beyond.” 

Fyn’s blood ran cold. According to Garas, it was into this very beyond that his father disappeared long ago. The tales of what lurked out there- Sharpteeth taller than two Sailnecks on top of one another, sands that swallowed up those unfortunate enough to cross them, and mountains that roared and spat fire- had led him to one conclusion long ago. His father was never coming back. How could he, with everything that lurked beyond the grove’s borders? 

“My father…” Fyn said, and Garas winced, “why did he go out there? No one ever told me.” 

This was the question Garas had been dreading since he’d taken Fyn into his care long ago. The answer held dangerous potential, something he didn’t want unleashed. But as he looked Fyn over, the Sailneck he’d raised as his own since he was just older than a hatchling, he swallowed his doubts, and decided to tell the truth. 

“Your father,” he began slowly, “was lured into the Drylands, with the promise of a mythical land called the Great Valley.” 

“Great Valley?” Fyn muttered, perplexed, “what’s that?” 

“An empty promise,” Garas answered, “a call from the Drylands, beckoning the unwary away. Those who seek this Valley never return.” He turned back to the trees, “and this is what I’m referring to when I say you must protect your herd against less obvious threats. Temptation, Fyn, is a threat. Ideas are threats. Like poison they spread through our herd, luring the weak away and thinning our numbers until eventually, none remain. You must protect us from these things, Fyn, as I have for years.” 

Fyn nodded, understanding. If the Drylands were as dangerous as he’d heard, there was absolutely no reason that the herd should chance them. He only wished that his father had felt this way; if he had, he might still be here to this day. 

“These are the truths you must come to accept before you become a leader yourself, Fyn. Can you protect our herd from the threats whispered in idle conversation, too?” 

“I can, and I will,” Fyn said, excited. There was so much ahead of him now- a great deal of responsibility too, of course, but the call of leadership was strong. 

“Then my lesson today is complete,” Garas said, smiling. Fyn’s confusion made him chuckle a bit, and he turned back to the grove. “I know you’re probably a bit confused, but this was the most important lesson I could teach you today. From here on out, you’ll follow me, watching what I do and learning from me. I’ll train you to fight, of course, too,” he added, winking. “Most male Sailnecks your age learn around now. And so will you.” 

The words Garas spoke slowly fell into a fuzz, however, as Fyn gazed back out over the Drylands. Something had caught his eye- a shadow on the horizon. It wasn’t a mirage- it was just too… concrete. And with each passing moment it seemed to grow in size. Was this one of the fabled beasts of the Drylands, passing by to gaze with hungry eyes upon the home of the Sailnecks? Garas followed Fyn’s transfixed gaze, and when his eyes met the same anomaly, his brow furrowed. 

“What is it?” Fyn asked, gaping. 

“Farwalkers,” Garas said solemnly, as he moved to the other side of the outcropping to get a better view. “Those who spread the lies and deceit of the Drylands.” 

“How do they survive out there?” 

Garas closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. “No one knows, Fyn. Some say they can find pockets of green food out in the Drylands, while others say they… do the unthinkable.” 

He didn’t elaborate, and immediately Fyn’s mind raced. The unthinkable? What could he have possibly meant? Surely he couldn’t have meant they preyed upon each other… couldn’t he?

“I’ll turn them away,” Garas sighed, heading down the rocks, “I’ll be back soon, just-” 

He stopped, turning to Fyn. With a smile, he nodded towards the herd. 

“On second thought, come on Fyn. As an apprentice herd leader, I’d like you to see firsthand what we strive to protect against. Come along- I promise no harm will come to you.” 

Gulping, Fyn took another, long look at the approaching mass of bodies and dust. He’d never seen Outsiders up close before- until now, he’d only heard of them in stories. Did they really eat each other? What would they be like? Yet even with his heart beating rapidly, and thoughts of the horrors that awaited him out there running rampant through his mind, one thought kept his resolve steady. 

_ You want to be a herd leader? Then it’s time to stop being a kid and grow up.  _

“Alright,” he said cautiously, “I’m coming with you.” 


	3. Outsiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garas is forced to deal with his children's lack of obedience. In retaliation, Fyn and Zaura hatch a daring plan to help the Farwalkers.

_ Outsiders _

 

With heavy, crunching footsteps, Rachi led his herd towards the small hint of green on the horizon ahead. For the first time in days, he was sure that the sight that greeted him ahead was no mirage, and as sand stung every inch of the Longneck’s body, as it had for most of this trek, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Rest was ahead. Perhaps at the stand of trees ahead they could stay a while, regain their strength while a few more days passed. After all, they were in no hurry. Looking back at the dinosaurs in his herd, Rachi felt a wave of pride pass over him, and his dry, cracked, sand-worn face broke into a smile. Everyone in his herd had volunteered for this journey, out of simple desire to know what lay beyond their home far away, and though some had said that this undertaking was a fool’s errand, their very presence here proved them wrong. 

Perhaps there would be water ahead too, he thought, focusing back on the present. Following the shore of the Big Water had been a good plan, as it often led to fertile locations, but long stretches without much to drink just made the expanse of water beside them all the more taunting. Every once in a while, someone would slink off to taste the water anyway, holding to some futile hope that it would be drinkable. As expected, they were disappointed. But those days were over, at least for now. He only hoped that whoever lived in this grove, if it was indeed inhabited at all, would welcome them. 

“Rest ahead!” he called back to the herd, “prepare to stop!” 

 

His words were met with hushed talk, and a few mingled cheers of approval. The others likely felt the same burn in their legs that he did. They’d been on their feet for over a day now, looking for a place to settle down. Thankfully they hadn’t run into any Sharpteeth. Rachi doubted that, in its condition, the herd was even capable of fending off a Sharptooth attack, but he supposed that the very reason this environment was sapping their strength every day was also the reason they hadn’t seen any threats yet- this was a wasteland. And as the herd drew ever closer to the green, gemlike trees up ahead, he thought to himself how lucky one must be to live in such a place. 

Two small dots materialized ahead of the trees, putting Rachi on alert. 

“Ryth, I need eyes on those figures coming at us.” 

Beside him, Ryth, a Cresthead, squinted his eyes. Ryth undoubtedly had the best eyes in the group, and Rachi liked to keep him up front, as a spotter. He hadn’t once regretted this decision. 

“Friend or foe?” he asked the Cresthead. 

Satisfied, Ryth turned to his leader. “Longnecks- Sailnecks, to be precise.”

Rachi raised his eyebrows. “Sailnecks? Haven’t seen one of them in ages. Only one I ever saw…” 

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” Ryth agreed, “long before we left on this journey, that’s for sure. He was good company, if I remember right.” 

“Well, hopefully we can expect the same from them,” Rachi concluded. He certainly hoped so, anyway. They’d been without rest for a long time now, and no one knew how far they’d have to go before they reached their next destination. Mulling over what he planned to say, Rachi nervously prepared for the first interaction with someone outside the herd he’d had in a while. There was a lot riding on this first impression, but he knew- and his herd knew- that if anyone could get on another’s good side, it was Rachi. 

…

Fyn had to admit- facing some of his greatest childhood fears in the span of a few moments wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped. Crossing the Field of Jumping Water, something he’d previously thought an impossibility, was hard enough- he’d spent the entire time staring down at the holes around him, just waiting for one to erupt with excruciatingly hot water, maybe even taking one of his limbs. But Garas was unphased, making a clear path through the gushing pillars of water. Only a few warm droplets landed on Fyn, in the end, and as they left the field behind, he couldn’t help wonder if being a herd leader granted Garas supernatural senses too. it was a silly thought, to be sure, yet he still couldn’t help but wonder. 

With the Jumping Water behind them, however, Fyn soon realized that his biggest fear was still ahead. The herd was coming closer, and he could see more clearly now the dinosaurs that made it up. Once again his old thoughts returned- where they really meat eaters? Would they seek peace, or wish to fight? He found himself looking at their faces, trying to discern who did and didn’t have pointed teeth- the telltale sign of a meat eater- but few actually opened their mouths. What instead caught his attention was the thin, sand-encrusted bodies of the dinosaurs. If he didn’t know any better- he’d say they were walking corpses. He’d only ever seen a dead body once, when one of the herd elders had fallen sick and never recovered, but the pale, emaciated frame he’d seen looked exactly like the dinosaurs approaching, and that spooked him a bit. Part of him actually felt sorry for them- walking such a long distance like this was no way to live. 

When they finally came face to face, the parties stopped. The leader, the tallest Longneck Fyn had ever seen, turned back to his herd. 

“Lie down and rest- you’ve earned it.” 

Garas seemed to tense at the words, but kept his composure together as he addressed the leader. 

“Greetings, Farwalker. To what do I owe the…  _ pleasure”  _ he gritted his teeth, “of your company today?” 

Seeming to not take the hint that Garas was less than hospitable, Rachi addressed him. 

“I’m Rachi, leader of this expeditionary herd. For many cycles we’ve traversed the Mysterious Beyond, searching for new lands, and new wonders. Our purpose is simply adventure- every one of us left our home for this, and the wonders we’ve seen… the Endless Falls, the Highmountains, even the Great Va-” 

“Why are you here?” Garas cut him off sharply. It was too late, of course, to keep Rachi’s words from Fyn. In fact, the young Sailneck found himself paying less and less attention to Garas’ actions, and more to his inner thoughts. Endless Falls? Highmountains? And the last thing he’d said- almost certainly the Great Valley. 

“My herd has been traveling without rest for a while now, and we need a place to stay for a short time. Would you be willing to let us stay in your grove for a while? We will abide by your rules, of course, and only take what you allow us to.” 

“No,” Garas barked, “absolutely not.” 

The speed and sharpness with which Garas answered the Longneck caught Fyn off guard. While it was true that he’d initially expected Garas to bar their entry, that was before he’d actually seen the herd. They looked friendly, hardly the sort to prey upon one another. Far from harmful, they in fact looked quite pitiful, emaciated even. There was no threat here, surely Garas could see that… Then he remembered what Garas had told him about spoken threats. Even in their state, the Outsiders still had their dangerous words. But as Fyn looked into the dull, yet hopeful eyes of each one, he detected no malice. It didn’t seem as if any wished them ill, and to top everything off- they’d made it this far through the Drylands, hadn’t they? That alone deserved some recognition. 

“Sir,” Rachi said, trying his best to sound as polite as possible, “I promise you- you won’t even know we’re here. We’ll be in and out in mere-” 

“I said  _ no!”  _

Garas cracked his tail through the air, advancing towards Rachi menacingly. While the larger longneck did not meet the display of aggression, he remained standing, resolute. 

“Wait, Garas!” Fyn piped up, gulping. Turning around, his mentor lowered his tail. 

“You have some insight, Fyn?” 

Gulping again, Fyn nodded. “Look at them. They really do look tired. I know we can’t let them into our grove, but… what if they just stay out here, near the Field of Jumping Water? That might at least give them some protection from Sharpteeth, and there’s enough scattered green food to keep them satisfied, while staying far away from our own herd.”

Garas looked shocked, fixing Fyn with a wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare that would have been comical had the situation not been so tense. Rachi chuckled awkwardly. 

“From the mouths of young ones, eh?” he muttered with a smile that quickly disappeared once Garas whirled around to confront him again. 

“Watch your tongue when addressing me, Outsider,” he snapped. Then turning back to Fyn, he whispered. “I thought you learned something today, Fyn. Evidently we still have much work to do. I will speak of this with you later.” Grudgingly turning once more to Rachi, he glowered up at the towering Longneck and grumbled “it would seem my apprentice finds you interesting enough to save. Very well. You may rest here, on the other side of the Jumping Water. But mark my words, Outsider- if any one of you sets foot in my grove, I will not hesitate to drive each and every one of you from our land. Am I understood?” 

“Clearly,” the Longneck said solemnly. With a “humph,” Garas turned around, stomping off towards the trees. Fyn followed, but not before offering up a weak smile to Rachi. Rachi returned it, with a nod, and something inside Fyn felt a bit warmer, despite the present circumstances. 

“Find your sister and bring her home,” Garas growled to Fyn. “You two both disappointed me today. When you return, I will have words with both of you.” 

Fyn bowed his head in a curt nod. “I understand.” 

Nothing else was said, and though Fyn and Garas parted in bitterness, Fyn couldn’t shake the feeling that today, he’d made the right choice. 

…

“I say we take it by force.” 

Rachi rolled his eyes. Lyko, the only Clubtail in the herd, was stirring up trouble again, as usual. 

“No, Lyko,” he said, glaring down at the stubby, armored dinosaur, “we will not take it by force. Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t. We’re likely outnumbered, and none of us is in a position to compete. Let’s just settle down and get this green food we have here into our systems-” his eyes caught on a small bush, brownish and very dry-looking, and his stomach knotted up. “No matter how unappetizing it might be,” he added. 

“But it’s not fair!” Lyko pressed, “that herd is sitting on an entire grove of fresh green food and water, and we can do nothing but stare! What are they so afraid of?” 

“I think they’re afraid of us,” Ryth said, chewing absently on one of the local plants, “did you see the look in that young Longneck’s eyes when he saw us? The kid was petrified.” 

“Yeah…” Rachi said, thoughtfully gnawing on his own green food, “yeah. But there was a spark in his eye. Did you see it? When I was talking about the places where we’ve been… maybe we’ve got an ally in him, eh?” 

Ryth shrugged, crossing his arms as he laid down on the rapidly cooling sand. “I don’t know,” he muttered, “I guess we’ll wait and see.” 

Rachi nodded, going back to his own food. Something was nagging at him about the young Sailneck, tugging at the back of his mind, but it just wasn’t coming to him at the moment. He hoped they might meet again, one way or another- perhaps seeing him would jog his memory. For now, though, he knew he’d have his hands full keeping the herd calm. What the Sailnecks’ herd leader had against travelers like himself, he had no idea, but it wasn’t his place to pry. He only hoped that the leader wouldn’t be too much of an obstacle for the impressionable young Sailneck. 

…

Fyn pushed through the leafy foliage leading to the clearing where he was sure the Day of Mates was just about wrapping up. Very soon, he was certain the grove would be full of couples, all celebrating their new bonds. For a moment, he wondered what he would do if Zaura walked out with a mate of her own, but quickly perished the thought. If she had he’d be happy, for sure, but Zaura seemed convinced that she wasn’t ready. As far as Fyn was concerned, that was that- when Zaura set her mind to something, few things could change her view. 

His suspicions were confirmed as Fyn crossed over into the clearing. Although a few males still gazed wistfully over in her direction, Zaura was alone, with a content smile on her face. Her seclusion seemed to please her. As Fyn approached, she lazily faced him with a somewhat mischievous smile. 

“I can see your day was hardly productive,” Fyn remarked, looking over at the other dinosaurs still in the clearing. Most were leaving now, and soon they’d be the only ones left. “Zaura- what’s so wrong about finding a mate, anyway? Maybe Garas is right- you might really enjoy the experience.” 

Zaura rolled her eyes, getting slowly to her feet. “Please spare me, Fyn. You only buy into his lectures because you’re scared of him.” 

“Scared of- what? No! I just know when it’s the right time to listen to him.” 

“You mean like listening to him right now? You didn’t come back here of your own volition, Fyn. He sent you. I’m guessing he wants to talk?” 

Still a little wounded from his sister’s “scared” jabs, Fyn nodded grudgingly. 

“Yeah, he wants to talk. It’s not gonna be a good talk either.”

Zaura sighed, starting the long walk back to their nest. “I see. Well, I’ll be honest- my actions probably didn’t help much. But seriously- he wants to talk to you too? What’d you do to piss him off?” 

Fyn thought about this for a moment. While Garas had never expressly forbidden him from saying anything about visiting Farwalkers, he was pretty sure it had been implied at some point. Still, Zaura was his sister, and relatively trustworthy. He stopped, prompting Zaura to turn back. 

“Can you keep a secret?” Fyn whispered. 

The unamused stare that met Fyn’s eyes was the only answer he needed. 

“Okay then. We were visited by Farwalkers today-”

Zaura’s eyes lit up and her jaw dropped. “What?! Farwalkers? What are they doing here? I thought they never came to our grove!” 

“Well I’m starting to think they show up a bit more often than we realize,” Fyn confessed. “Garas had me watch as he… turned them away.” 

“He did what?” 

Fyn nodded. “I know he says they’re dangerous, and that they’re not to be trusted, but I just felt so sorry for them. They’re all thin, like they haven’t eaten in days, and they just looked tired. Didn’t seem dangerous to me. But he just turned them away, like they were nothing.” 

Zaura was thinking, of that Fyn was positive. Her exterior remained neutral and focused on him, but he knew that it was times like these where she was truly mulling over an issue. 

“Okay,” she said finally, “but where do you fit in? What did you do to upset him?” 

Fyn winced, crossing his front legs together sheepishly. “Um… I asked him to let them stay outside the Field of Jumping Water.” 

Surprisingly, Zaura didn’t explode at the news. Her gentle nod actually scared Fyn more than anything else. He’d been expecting a reprimand, but now she was taking a turn for the unpredictable. 

“That’s reasonable,” she said finally. “If they can’t mingle with the herd, at least they have the nearby security of the grove. It’s kind of a win for both sides. What would he have against that?” 

They plunged back into the thick forest, soaking in the cool evening air- a welcome change from the hot day they’d both experienced. Garas was at the forefront of Fyn’s thoughts. Zaura did have a point- dangerous influences or not, why would Garas hate having the Farwalkers even close to the grove? 

“Did he at least offer them some of our green food?” Zaura continued, taking the lead.

“No, he didn’t.”

Zaura whirled around, startling Fyn who almost backed up into a tree.   
“What?! You mean he offered them nothing?”

“Well they were Farwalkers…” Fyn stammered, “we don’t deal with them, or at least we’re not supposed to.” 

With a menacing growl, Zaura brought her foot down into the ground with a thundering crash that was enough to shake the leaves off some of the trees nearby. 

“Zaura? Fyn? Is that you?”

Fyn’s blood turned to ice as he recognized the voice of Garas echoing through the trees. He must’ve heard Zaura’s outburst- hopefully not all of it. Zaura, instead of displaying any fear, simply glared through the trees towards the voice. 

“Yeah,” she yelled back, meeting the force of his words with her own brand of defiance, “we’re coming.” 

“My patience is thin, young one,” Garas shot back, “return now, or this conversation’s only going to get worse.” 

Zaura growled, but turned towards the nest, motioning for Fyn to follow. It was then that Fyn realized he’d inadvertently backed up into a cluster of bushes, with only his head poking out. He smiled nervously at Zaura, then proceeded to exit his hiding place reluctantly. 

“Best not keep the old Sharptooth waiting,” Zaura mumbled, rolling her eyes. Fyn said nothing- he wasn’t sure what there even was to say. Everything just felt so confusing now, and for the moment, he simply wished the Farwalkers had never even shown up today. But regardless of what he thought, they were here- and he only hoped things couldn’t possibly get more topsy-turvy than they already were. 

How wrong he was. 

…

The silence as the two young Longnecks entered the nesting area was intense. Garas simply sat at the opposite end of the small clearing, glaring as they made their way toward him and sat down. Even Zaura looked a bit cautious, Fyn noted. It would probably be wise for him to hold his tongue for the moment. When Garas finally spoke, it was with a soft, but venomous tone that sent Fyn chills. 

“You both know why we’re having this talk, I’m sure,” he began. Zaura opened her mouth to reply, but she was quickly cut off. 

“No need to answer. I know that you know.” Garas stood and began pacing, his brow creased and heavy with stress, “I just don’t get it. Why do you two have to fight me?” 

Fyn looked up, confused. 

“I mean how hard is it to just do what I say? The herd follows me, so why can’t my own childr- I mean, why can’t my own young ones?” He sighed, leaning up against a tree with his head down, and for once he just appeared tired, rather than angry. “All I ask is a little cooperation from you two, and what do I get? I get you, Zaura, telling me it’s not the right time to find a mate, and you, Fyn-” he fixed his eyes straight on Fyn, his gaze seeming to bore holes straight into him. “Fyn, with the Farwalkers today- did you not hear me when I said our policy is strict isolation? There are reasons we don’t let them anywhere  _ near  _ our valley! They’re  _ dangerous,  _ Fyn! You know, up until now I would have expected this kind of insubordination from Zaura, but from  _ you?!”  _

Fyn could feel himself choking up. He hadn’t wanted to disappoint Garas, but right now that’s exactly what he’d been doing. To his shame, he felt a tear running down his face. He didn’t want to cry- not in front of his sister and especially not in front of Garas, but he couldn’t help it. 

“I- I just wanted to do the right thing,” he sobbed, “I wanted to help them! They needed help!” 

Garas’s eyes were wide and there was an almost manic gleam of anger in his eyes. “Are you… are you  _ crying,  _ Fyn? Pull yourself together this instant! I’m already sorely regretting my decision to teach you the duties of a herd leader. Do not make me revoke my decision altogether!” 

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Zaura shot back, standing up suddenly, “Fyn was just trying to be friendly! Is that too much to-”

The tail came out of nowhere; Zaura had no time to react as Garas whipped around, striking her across the jaw with his tail. The resounding “crack” broke the silence, and then stunned silence fell once again on the longnecks. Zaura merely looked in shock at Garas, mouth agape, with a mark on the side of her face that felt as if it was on fire. Garas looked down at her, unapologetically. 

“I’m tired of this disobedience,” he whispered. “You may not be my children, but I had hoped that after your father abandoned you I might bring you up as good Longnecks. I see now that I was mistaken. Go to sleep, think about what you’ve done to me, and leave me alone. I’ll see you both in the morning.” 

Warily, Fyn retreated, slinking away with his head down. Zaura followed him, silently fuming as they turned away, heading for their own corner of the clearing. The two lay down beside one another, and Fyn glanced back at Garas just quickly enough to see him disappear into the trees. 

He’d struck his sister. Why? In all the years he’d known Garas he’d never done something like that. Garas could be harsh at times, even quite terrifying when he was at his maddest, but physically violent? This was new. 

_ Then again, we haven’t been this disobedient before,  _ Fyn thought, turning over on his side. Everyone had their breaking point. Maybe Garas had finally reached his. Fyn closed his eyes, trying to let sleep take him, but none came. His mind raced with mixed feelings of guilt and loyalty to his sister. 

“Fyn.”

A whisper, from Zaura. Fyn turned over towards her slowly, cautiously, and did another visual sweep to confirm that Garas was indeed gone.  
“Zaura, are you okay?” he whispered. Even in the dim light he could still see the mark on her face. 

“No,” she growled, “still hurts like a sharptooth bite. But that’s beside the point.” 

“Besides the- okay, then what  _ is  _ the point?” Fyn whispered back, confused. “Why are we having this conversation? Garas’ll kill us if he finds us talking.” 

“Oh please,” Zaura rolled over to face Fyn, “you think I care anymore? He already gave me this.” She winced, laying the marked side of her face down on the cool grass. Fyn’s stomach turned as he was reminded of just how suddenly Garas had turned on her. 

“So what’s up then?” 

Zaura looked back up at him, a strange smile on her face. “We’re going to feed the Farwalkers.” 

“We’re  _ wha-”  _ Fyn closed his mouth quickly before returning to a hushed voice. “Are you out of your mind, Zaura? Haven’t we disobeyed Garas enough for today?” 

Zaura sighed, lifting her head up a bit to look up at the stars. “No, Fyn, we have not.” She took a few deep breaths before continuing- these next words would be hard for her, but Fyn had to hear them. 

“Fyn, I know you’ve tried to be close to Garas, but has it ever occurred to you that perhaps he doesn’t know what’s best for this herd?”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants to protect us, I guess, by keeping us isolated in here. But is that really what we need?” 

Fyn opened his mouth to say something, but Zaura interrupted. 

“I asked around- I’ve got a few friends. I know this won’t be easy to hear, Fyn, but remember that wave that took Mother?” 

He most certainly did, or at least flashes of it. Screams, roaring water, bodies being washed out to sea… 

“Yeah,” he half-choked. 

“Well some of the elders say it’s happened before, too. Fyn, this grove isn’t safe at all, but Garas wants to keep us here.”

“So you’re saying he’s so afraid of the Drylands that he’ll chance the return of the big waves?”

Zaura nodded solemnly. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. I think he’s convinced most of the others, too. Fyn, he’s no more rational than you or I- probably less so, even. He’s letting fear govern his decisions. That’s why we need to show the others that we can stand up to him. And we can start by offering a shred of hospitality to those Farwalkers.” 

The look in Zaura’s eyes was unmistakable. It was the little twinkle of determination she got when she set herself to a plan without any intention of deviation from it. From this point on, there would be no stopping her.

“I suppose you won’t listen if I say what you’re doing is suicide.”

Zaura grinned “nope.” 

“Then I’m coming with you.” 

Zaura simply nodded, double-checking her surroundings again before getting to her feet. Fyn’s decision pleased her, but she needed more than his vocal commitment. Time to find out if he meant to live up to the agreement. 

“Then let’s go. The Night Circle won’t be up forever.” 

…

Thankfully for the two young dinosaurs, most of the herd slept at about the same time. A few had stayed up to keep watch once upon a time, but since then they’d discovered how secure the grove really was, and everyone agreed that a good night’s rest was far more important than watching out for nonexistent Sharpteeth. Still, the Longnecks were cautious. There were plenty of light sleepers in the herd, and just one Longneck alerted to their presence would be enough to bring the whole mission crashing down. 

“So what exactly is your plan?” Fyn whispered as they stealthily moved past a cluster of sleeping Longnecks. Two of them were snoring, and for that Fyn was grateful. Annoying as it was, it was doing a great job of covering up their already muffled footsteps. 

“We find a tree far away from everyone else, grab a few branches, load ‘em up between our sails, and head to the herd. You’ll have to help me with that last part, since I have no clue where they are.”  
Fyn nodded. “Got it.” 

The problem, of course, was finding a suitable area where snapping branches would be sure not to wake someone. The herd had a tendency to spread out at night. Their best bet would be to move towards the edge of the grove, where the herd was more spread out. Doing that, however, would minimize their cover, so speed would be important. Ahead, the faint, bluish light of the Night Circle shone through the trees, and Zaura held up her tail, motioning for Fyn to stop. 

“Let’s get on over there. I’ll grab some branches and load you up. Then you can do the same for me.”

“Umm.. okay, so what do I-” 

“Just stay still and stay quiet,” Zaura hissed, putting her forelegs on the trunk of the closest tree. As silently as she possibly could, she moved her upper body farther up the trunk, towards the branches above. When she came within reach of one, she closed her jaws around it and shut her eyes. Then with a sharp “crack” she wrenched her head to the side, snapping the branch off. Fyn was so impressed that he almost forgot to watch his positioning, and had to quickly sidestep to avoid the falling branch. The sound was muffled by the thick foliage, but even still- the rustling put him on edge. 

“Will you pay attention please?” Zaura called down from above. Fyn winced in embarrassment. Before long a second and third branch fell- all of which were certainly large enough to feed three dinosaurs, or more if they were feeling generous. Zaura quietly let herself back down. 

“Okay, your turn.” 

Fyn did exactly as his sister had, working his way up the tree. From here he could feel the pressure changes as he contacted different parts of the trunk. He’d have to be careful. Even younger trees like this one could creak loudly if force was applied to the right spot. Extended as far as he could go, he lifted his head up into the branches, selecting a branch that was considerably larger than any of the three Zaura had collected. 

“Hey” Zaura hissed from below, “don’t get any big ideas.” 

Fyn looked back at his sister and winked, a gesture which granted him an infuriated roll of the eyes in response, then clamped his own jaws around the branch. The bark was bitter, and flaky, but his teeth bit fairly well into it. Now all he needed was the proper amount of force… 

He twisted once, or at least attempted to, but aside from a quiet groan, the branch didn’t seem to do much of anything. He gave another two quick tugs. Still nothing. Below him, Zaura was trying to stifle some fairly hysterical laughter. 

_ Okay,  _ he thought to himself, preparing for one last effort,  _ I’m getting it this time if it kills me. One, two, three-  _

Several things happened at once, then. The still night air was interrupted by not one, but two “cracks.” The first and loudest by far was the branch, which separated from the tree and crashed to the ground with what seemed all the noise and fury of a rampaging Sharptooth. The second was Fyn’s own neck, which gave off a loud pop with the sudden, rapid movement of his head, accompanied by a brief, but powerful cramp. Fyn yelped, more in surprise than pain, falling sideways away from the tree and hitting the ground with a thud. Zaura watched the entire display, mouth agape and eyes wide. The moment Fyn hit the ground, some snoring they’d been monitoring a short distance away stopped. Thinking quickly, Zaura grabbed one of her branches and threw it at Fyn, making sure to get it over his neck and head. 

“Ow!” Fyn whispered, “don’t do that! I didn’t mean to lose my bal-” He stopped suddenly, realizing why Zaura had thrown the branches at him. Quickly he pressed his body down into the tall grass and thick leaves, covering his neck with the branch. The thundering footsteps approaching betrayed the presence of one of the formerly sleeping Longnecks. Fyn bit the inside of his mouth, scarcely daring to breathe as the Longneck’s feet came within a few inches of his hiding spot. Had he not been recently woken up, he might have spotted the two young ones, but he simply yawned, stretched, regarded the Night Circle with bleary eyes, and plodded back to his group, where he laid back down. 

Neither of the two moved for a while, waiting for the Longneck to fall asleep. When the snoring finally continued, Fyn looked up at his sister with a cheesy grin. What he got in return was a very sincere scowl. 

“You wanna not wake up the herd next time, doofus?” she groaned. “Here. Bend down so I can get your ridiculously oversized branch between your sails.  
The second Zaura dropped the branch down onto his neck, Fyn decided that going for the bigger branch had been a mistake. For one, parts of it stretched out over his head, making him look rather like a walking tree, and secondly- it was a lot heavier than he’d anticipated.  Zaura smirked, looking smugly at her brother as Fyn reached down and piled her own branches between her sails. 

“Well don’t look all sad at me, Fyn. You brought this on yourself.”  

No witty responses here. He  _ had  _ brought this on himself. Grudgingly he hefted the massive branch and breathed in deeply. 

“Okay then,” he said, starting off towards the edge of the grove, “let’s go meet the Farwalkers.”


End file.
